A man who puts life into words.
A true inspiration to all the undiscovered talent from in and around Hull and a gift to thisisUll.com and all of its readers.
Born and bred on Holderness Road in ‘Ull in the 1920’s, Maurice found the site from his home on the other side of the world in Melbourne, Australia.
Since then, he’s contributed nothing but real treasure: his life in words. Brilliant.
Maurice's contributions are listed below..
For the index by Section to all Maurice's work Contributions click here.
No Sections: 4 No Items: 27
Poetry - What did she look like? By Maurice Fairfield
What was she like?
I'm sure she was a she
Who saw, first, with understanding eyes,
The green shoots sprout in the brown earth
Where the basket burst last year
Spilling the ripe grain beyond recall
Finding the cracks and hollows, in
The waiting soil
Poetry - The Face on the Henhouse Floor or Brewster's Last Stand ... By Maurice Fairfield
In the world of chooks
There's no place for sooks
And a rooster must stand tall
It's the toughest bird that rules the roost
And the weak go to the wall
Now Brewster the Sussex rooster
Was solid and stringy and lean
Poetry - Is Anybody There? By Maurice Fairfield
What's to come is still unsure
Only one thing's really certain
One day (some day fairly soon)
I'll check out that final curtain *
Will I play it centre-stage?
Will I pass out in the wings?
Will I rant in noble rage
Poetry - Mummy Dearest By Maurice Fairfield
The pretty little butterflies
Are dancing o'er the waterfall
The little birds are tweeting
And the baby lambs are bleating
And from a little way away
I hear the sound of kids at play
Oh what a lovely lovely day
Articles - Made In Hull - Part Six - The War Part 2 By Maurice Fairfield
Meanwhile, back in Hull to which we returned the schools stayed closed for about a year and we envisaged our summer holidays stretching ahead into a hazy future untroubled by thoughts of the cane (still applied with enthusiasm by male teachers) and struggles with the seemingly irrelevant academic basics which they threatened and coaxed into us.
Poetry - My Girlfriend Can't Erase Her Past By Maurice Fairfield
My girlfriend can't erase her past
It's giving me the blues
The signs of other lovers last
She's covered in tattoos
She'd been around the block a bit
I knew that from the start
Poetry - Hide and Seek By Maurice Fairfield
So catch me if you can
My good old playmate Death
Let's play our game of hide and seek
Till I run out of breath
You counted ten some time ago
Ready or not, you said
Poetry - The Spoon Player By Maurice Fairfield
The name on the skin of the bass drum
Was Blackshaw's Storyville Five
And the board leaning up at the door of the pub
Was promising jazz that was live
A slight exaggeration for the Storyville Five were not
In the class of the bands they copied
Poetry - Faith, Hope And Charity By Maurice Fairfield
I loved a girl named Hope and she was pretty faithless
I met another called Faith and she was pretty hopeless
I got involved with Charity (she wasn't very kind)
And what with all the three of them it really blew my mind
Maintaining my tenacity but feeling broken hearted
I met a bird named Chastity
Articles - Made In Hull - Part Five - The War 1 By Maurice Fairfield
We approached the end of a one off summer unusually sun-tanned, playing in the dusty street or at East Park and (most of us) wondering what was going on. Many of our parents looked worried.
We had seen newsreels of Italian bombs and machine guns pacifying the luckless Abyssinians because Mussolini wanted an empire like everyone else.
We had seen
Poetry - Geriatric Blues By Maurice Fairfield
Now all my fellow oldies I hope you're feeling well
Listen what I'm sayin' cause I got a tale to tell
I got the blues, I got the blues. I got the geriatric blues
Joints are creakin' bladder's leakin' teeth are missin'
Havin' trouble pissin,' got the blues, the geriatric blues.
Go spread the news about the blues,
Poetry - Song of Hopeless Love By Maurice Fairfield
I've got a girl who's mighty sweet
Fellows fall down at her feet
Still she treats me like a skunk
She only loves me when she's drunk.
When I call her on the phone
(This girl I'd love to call my own)
April August June October
Articles - I'm Dreaming Of A Weird Christmas By Maurice Fairfield
I spent roughly half my life in Hull and the North of England and I could count the number of White Christmases on one hand. Cold, yes. Wet, yes. Bitterly cold, yes, but rarely white.
Yet most of the cards featured gabled houses with icicles dangling from the eaves.
Horses pulling sleighs, and always masses of that frigid white stuff.
Most of the yuletide snow I have seen is artificial
Poetry - Across The Sea By Maurice Fairfield
If you ever go across the sea to Cuba
If only at the closing of your days
You can sit and watch the moon rise on Havana
The sun go down on Guantanamo Bay
To see the guards, the guns, the razor wire
The prisoners in their cages turning grey
Poetry - The Short Goodbye (Portrait of the Artist as a Young Bum) By Maurice Fairfield
The door she left through when she left
Was firmly closed but not quite slammed
Her steady step upon the stair
Suggested that his hopes were damned
He glanced around the dingy flat
The faded curtains, threadbare rug
Poetry - Love Among The Ruins by Maurice Fairfield
When first you swam into my life
I knew that I was hooked
I knew that I was caught at last
My goose was really cooked
I thought that I'd thrown in my hand
My playing days were over
Opinions - Hull - A Letter to Jon Snow Channel 4 By Maurice Fairfield - Another program knocking Hull?
I have lived in Australia for twenty years but I was born in Hull in 1928 and have lived with patronising contempt for the place ringing in my ears all my life.
Perhaps less the town and its people in general but the working-class people who have lived with the contempt of the middle-class who lived off them and who I remember as themselves contemptible.
Poetry - Memories of the Royal and Ancient City of Hull By Maurice Fairfield
Now if you are an Ull Kid
Or if you used to be one
No matter where you wander
Or how long you're gone
Then from your deepest psyche
Memories you'll cull
Fiction - Feller's in Cut By Maurice Fairfield
Well that's her gone. You don't remember me do you?
I'll have a pint while you're thinking about it.
It's me Jack, Harry Fergus's son. Here for the funeral.
Thought I'd see her get put under. Not sure why.
It's always a laugh though, watching a parson doing a
Poetry - A Valentine By Maurice Fairfield
The Germans say Ich lieber dich
the French say Je t'adore
the Spanish say, Ti amor
The Greeks si Agapo
In all the tongues of all the World
Poetry - An Old Man's Afternoon By Maurice Fairfield
In a would be poets' pub
Dusty, (that's the pub not me)
And some of the would be poets too
If truth were told, as truth must be
Poetry - Schoolboy Ethics By Maurice Fairfield
We're not going to cut and run
We'll stay till the job is done
We're hard men here in Australia
We'll hang tough and never fail ya
Socialists and Greenies may
Live to fight another day.
Articles - Made In Hull - Part Four - Schooldays By Maurice Fairfield
My first day at school is still vivid in a misty sort of way. We were all given a little
child-sized blackboard, with a tiny blackboard eraser and some chalk. So far so good.
Unfortunately I thought it was mine and when they wanted it back they had to take it by brute force.
The blackboard was
Poetry - The Plumber By Maurice Fairfield
Behold the plumber where he stands
His wrenches gleaming in his hands
His jaw is square, his eye is keen
His belly flat his body lean.
No common man, his hire comes high
His hourly rate is in the sky
Poetry - Men weep more as they grow old, and women less - newspaper headline. By Maurice Fairfield
Skimming through the daily press
Tales of spite and greed oppress
Evils great and evils small,
A headline caught my idle eye
A statement by some talking head
Researched and tested, and he said
Articles - Made In Hull - Part 3 The Calm before, (The Storm) By Maurice Fairfield
Things which happened in the thirties flutter by me like calendar leaves in an old movie
and I try to catch some of them as they fly.
There was the Graf Zeppelin which flew over Hull in 1932 as part of a goodwill tour.
Many people believed that its crew were photographing the docks and industries
Articles - Made In Hull - Part Two - Our Terrace By Maurice Fairfield
Ours was the typical terrace. Some had houses with small front gardens and a path down the middle to each front door.
Not so Alex Avenue; a short dead-end courtyard with seven houses on each side.
Foot traffic only, in fact the head of the terrace was enclosed by a hoop topped iron fence with a gate
Articles - Made In Hull - Part One - Arundel Street Days By Maurice Fairfield
My story begins in Arundel Street and wanders away to the shallow end of Holderness Road next door to the tram sheds and opposite the old Astoria Cinema, which was at that time the New Astoria Cinema.
Then to Hedon for a time, then back to Arundel a couple of years before the outbreak of the war.
Poetry - Do Not Depend on the Wind By Maurice Fairfield
Do not depend on the wind,
many a sailor and miller has found
A grave in the wave a grave in the ground
In waiting for wind.
Do not depend on the rain,
Pleasure and pain,
Harrowing loss, empty gain